


Cherry & Wine

by cuddleefuddlee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Soft Boys, karaoke confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddleefuddlee/pseuds/cuddleefuddlee
Summary: Argentina is a beautiful place, but there is no sight that Issei loves more than that of Tooru in their living room.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 21
Kudos: 59





	Cherry & Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnimeGinaLinetti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeGinaLinetti/gifts).



> HEHEH HERE IS THE LONG AWAITED MATSUOI FOR YOU SUSHI!!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING IT AS MUCH AS I HAD WRITING IT!!!

The feeling of a jersey between Issei’s fingers is strange. It’s not a real jersey just yet, but one of those thin pinnies that they give out at the beginning of practice to play on different teams. There’s a little voice that whispers he’s not part of the team, that he should turn around and run back to the music room instead where he can practice for hours without any eyes on him. 

He’s still not sure how he even made it onto this team. Volleyball was something that came second to music, came second to the world he was able to lose himself in. He never thought he stood out enough on the court that someone would actually _want_ him to play on their team. 

“Iwa-chan, we can’t be the only first years here, right?” 

His eyes snap towards the voice, jersey slipping from his fingers as his hand falls to his side. Issei shouldn’t be surprised - somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this was coming, he knew who the other players on the team were before showing up to their first practice - but that doesn’t stop him watching the pair that’s walking right by him. 

He recognizes the one that’s hanging off of the other - he’d be dumb not to recognize the person who won the best setter award the year before. Oikawa Tooru, a genius setter with the potential to propel any team that he’s on to the top. There is more power and talent in the tips of his fingers than Issei has in his entire body. 

Issei has never felt so close to a god before.

They pass by him without so much as a second glance. Which is fine, really, but he doesn’t expect the setter to turn around and make eye contact with him for a brief moment before turning back to his friend. It makes Issei feel like he’s on fire, like he can take on whatever is about to be thrown at him. 

“So, you met Oikawa.” 

Issei jumps at the voice, eyes sliding over to the person who appeared next to him seemingly out of nowhere. Makki has that smile on his face that screams _I know what you’re thinking_ and it makes him want to scream. He hates that smug look that seems to know all of his inner thoughts and secrets. 

“I already knew who he was,” he replies. “I’d be dumb not to.” 

The other boy clicks his tongue. “Well, you’ve caught his attention. He keeps looking over here and whispering to Iwaizumi.” 

Issei whips his head around at that, making eye contact with Oikawa for a split second the other looks away again. If he looks closer, he can see the tips of the other's ears burn pink; his cheeks slowly turning the same shade. If Makki's snickering is anything to go off of, Issei knows that he looks exactly the same. 

“Alright,” their coach says, clapping to get their attention. “Let’s introduce the first years to the rest of the team and get started!”

Never has he ever been so glad to be a part of a team. 

___________________________

“Hey Mattsun,” Oikawa starts. “Do you like plants?” 

The question hits him while they’re walking around Sendai on a Sunday. It’s so out of blue that Issei thinks he misheard Oikawa, that maybe he was asking about pants instead of plants. It wouldn’t be the first time he was paying more attention to the way lashes fall against cheeks instead of the conversation. 

He really needs to get it together otherwise he’ll never hear the end of it from Makki. 

Oikawa pouts at him when he doesn’t answer right away, still too lost in his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re pretending not to hear me like Iwa-chan does. I thought you were better than that.” 

A blush starts to creep across his face, embarrassment making a home in his chest for looking like a fool in front of Oikawa. He hates this, not being able to control his reactions when it comes to the other. Somehow he’s turned into a blushing mess when he’s too close to Oikawa, a 187-centimeter blushing mess that has no explanation for _why_ he turns into that. 

Something tells him it has to do with the way the sun reflects off of his hair, the way his laugh echoes in his mind long after they have gone their separate ways, the way he trusts Issei to be right where he needs him to be at any given moment. 

“No, I—” he cuts himself off. “Sorry, I thought you said pants.”

_Smooth_ , he thinks, _real smooth, Issei_. Apparently, his answer is good enough for Oikawa though because he’s met with a smile when he finally looks up at the other boy. 

“ _Anyway_ , as I was saying. Do you like plants?” Oikawa points at his hands, eyebrows raised as he waits for an answer. 

Plants, right, he’s asking about plants. Issei looks down at the leaf in his hand. They were walking by the florist when he snuck one of the leaves off a potted plant. Oikawa had rolled his eyes at the time, but Issei kept the leaf; twirling it between his fingers while they walked along their route. 

It takes him until that moment to realize he’s still holding onto it, that he kept holding onto to stop himself from reaching for the other's hand. 

“Yeah,” he replies. “I guess I do.” 

“You seem like the type of guy who would be good at taking care of them. Let’s go back and get one, Mattsun.” 

Before he can say no, Oikawa grabs onto his wrist and spins him around, leading them back in the direction of the florist. Issei doesn’t know the first thing about plants or how to take care of them, but the last thing he wants is to let go of this hand and where it leads. 

It starts small, an interest that they happen to share after that weekend afternoon. Slowly, they begin to take trips there each chance they get only to leave with a matching set of planters for the cactuses they buy because “ _obviously we have to get buddy plants, Mattsun._ ”

Issei was never interested in plants, but if it means sharing these brief moments with Oikawa on a sunny afternoon, he’ll take care of them as best he can.

___________________________

The desire to make Oikawa his own hits Issei when they’re all out at karaoke on one of their rare free days. It’s not like he was unaware of these growing feelings - it’s actually quite the opposite. Every second he has spent with Oikawa up until they were squished together onto the couch in this room has been something he has cherished. It’s something he wants more of before they graduate and go their different ways. It’s something he wants before Argentina sweeps Oikawa away from him forever. 

Issei decides to take a leap of faith. 

“I like you,” he blurts out in the middle of Makki's singing. It’s hardly loud enough for Oikawa to hear it over the music, but the color spreading across his face and wide eyes tell him everything he needs to know. Neither Iwaizumi or Makki look at them, too absorbed in their own little world to notice the car crash that’s happening next to them. 

The pop song blaring through the speakers paired with Makkis offkey only makes his heart beat harder against his ribcage. If he’s being honest, the whole situation feels like some sort of fever dream that he might now wake up - and honestly, he’s fine with that as long as he didn’t _actually_ embarrass himself in front of Oikawa. 

“You like me?” Oikawa asks, voice shaky and timid like it’s the first time he’s been confessed to. 

There’s something in the way he says it that makes Issei hold his breath; like Oikawa can’t believe that he’s actually being confessed to by someone, by _Issei_ in particular. The grip on his chopsticks loosens and they fall, clacking against the table. 

One glance behind Oikawa tells him that their friends still haven’t noticed what’s happening. It’s a relief knowing that this moment is still _theirs_. The thought lights the fire in his chest to push through, to see to it that his feelings are properly understood. 

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I like you a lot.” 

Issei isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting - wasn’t expecting a reaction in general - but when Oikawa wraps his arms around his neck and squeezes, it’s safe to say he’s surprised. He forgets what is happening around them and allows himself to indulge in the scent of vanilla shampoo and soft detergent and the feeling of a uniform sweater scratching against his skin. 

“I like you too,” Oikawa whispers and Issei barely hears it over his heartbeat. 

He’s not sure which god he has to thank for allowing him this small happiness, but he promises to thank them the next time he goes to the shrine. Maybe he’ll even promise to show his face more often, as a form of thanks for letting this moment happen. 

“Cool,” Makki interrupts. “Now that the two of you finally confessed to each other can we order more food? I’m starving and watching you two be all cute isn’t solving that issue.” 

“ _Makki_ ,” Oikawa whines. “Way to ruin the moment! I know you and Iwa-chan have been waiting for this to happen. You’re not subtle at all.” 

He allows himself to bask in the moment, to reach out and intertwine his fingers with OIkawa’s for the first time. They’re soft, he realizes, even after years of playing volleyball, his hands are still soft to the touch. 

“Wait, you told Iwa?” He kicks around under the table, blindly looking for the right shin. “I told you to keep quiet about it, asshole.” 

“First of all, ow.” Makki pulls his leg up on the couch, pretending like his leg is out of commission for the rest of the day. “Second of all, Oikawa was too busy pining over you to see you pining over him. It was getting tiring.” 

The conversation devolves into bickering, a comforting blanket that settles over all of them. Maybe, he thinks, maybe he can be happy like this. With Oikawa under his arm and his friends smiling, he thinks it’s possible. 

___________________________

They’re at the graduation ceremony when he realizes that Oikawa has turned into _Tooru_. It was a subtle change that he didn’t expect to happen. Somewhere along the lines they became serious, became more than casual boyfriends who spent the majority of their time together. 

Even now, surrounded by their graduating class and their friends, he’s thinking of Tooru, of their relationship, of what’s to come for them. He knows it’s ridiculous to be spending his time thinking about his relationship when this is the last time he’ll be seeing most of the people he’s met over the last three years. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows Yahaba is searching for him to wish him luck and tell him not to break Toorus heart. 

It takes a few minutes of pushing through the crowd and being able to see over their heads until Issei realizes that he’s not there. Which, to put it simply, is odd. Tooru is someone that is loved by many people. He’s someone that the bulk of their class spent crying over the entire last week because someone let it slip that he was leaving the country. But, he knows Tooru better than to assume he wants to be fawned over when the bubble around them is so delicate. The crowd is thinner at the edges and allows Issei to weed his way through to the one place he knows his boyfriend is. 

Outside of their gym is a courtyard with a fountain; a perk of going to a private school. It’s a place where the two of them have spent laughing after practices and shared kisses in the dark and fallen in love with each other over the course of three years. 

“When are you leaving?” 

“In a few days,” Oikawa replies, eyes concentrating on anything but the boy next to him. “They want me to start training as soon as possible so they can figure out team dynamics.” 

All he can do is nod in response. This day is something they’ve talked about before. It’s something they’ve managed to discuss without breaking down or fighting with each other. They’ve known this day has been coming for weeks, months, even years if they think back hard enough. 

He reaches out and links their fingers together; a small show of support that they’ll be fine, that they can get through this. That he believes in them despite the distance. 

“Hey, can we do one last thing before we leave this place?” 

“Yeah, of course,” he replies. 

Issei’s sure that he would do anything at that moment if Tooru asked him to. 

There’s something cliche about kissing under cherry blossoms. Or at least that’s what Issei used to think. He had seen that type of thing in enough mangas that he doubted it actually happened in real life - and if it did, well, that was some lame guy's attempt at being cool. 

But, now? Now Issei understands why it’s such a sought after thing because Tooru is pressing his lips to his while the petals act as a curtain, protecting them from any onlookers who might happen to walk by. Now, he understands why Tooru chose this spot at this time, and instead of making fun of the situation, he lays a hand on the other's hip and pulls him closer.

___________________________

It’s early. Far too early for Issei to be driving down the highway towards the airport with a cup of coffee that’s getting far too cold far too quickly on this December morning. He wouldn’t care about going over the speed limit, but he’s already late and the last thing he wants is to be even later to the airport. 

He can already hear Tooru teasing him about having to wait in the cold Japanese air that he’s not used to anymore. It makes him smile just thinking about it and presses harder on the gas to make it there on time. 

The trouble happens when he’s looking for a parking spot because, of course, he wants to surprise his boyfriend in the flesh with the now cold cup of coffee and a pack of milk bread that he knows they don’t sell in Argentina. It's his way of welcoming him home even if it's not some grand gesture, but they've never a couple that thrives off of that sort of thing. 

Issei thanks himself for deciding to keep in good enough shape that he can jog through the cars as fast as he can, thankful that the barista put one of those little stoppers in his to-go cup so he wouldn't spill. He looks at his phone to check the time and sees a text from his boyfriend, informing him that he made it and will be waiting at the arrivals gate whenever he makes it there.

Not if Issei has anything to do with it.

He picks up his speed and finds the baggage check, tucking himself into a chair by the nearest door. His nerves are starting to settle, working their way through his limbs as he sits there with each passing moment. Surprising Tooru is fine, it's something that the other will love because he's into that type of stuff. It's going to work out.

" _The bags for Flight 289 from Argentina are now arriving_ ," a voice booms through the speaker. " _Please make sure that you collect your bags before you leave the airport. Thank you and have a nice day!_ "

it's now or never, he thinks. If he lets his nerves get the better of him, he can turn right back around and get the car. It's as simple as that, really. He can chalk it up as a wash and try it out next time when he knows he'll have enough time to get there and be able to sit down with his thoughts. 

But the moment he sees Tooru, everything besides wanting to hold him drifts out of his head and he stands. 

"Tooru!" He yells at the loud hour, ignoring any glares pointed at him. "Over here!" 

The look on the other's face is enough to make the whole morning worth it because the moment they make eye contact, it seems like they're the only two people in the airport. It makes his pulse speed up with each step that Tooru takes towards him. 

Issei never believed in things like fate or the overwhelming power of love. But having Tooru crash into him and wrap his arms around his shoulders make him rethink his beliefs. Having this love back in his life in such a ridiculous situation at 5:00 in the morning is enough for him to think that maybe, just maybe, true love is real. 

"What are you doing in here?" His voice is barely audible from where his face is buried in Issei's coat and his grip gets even tighter. 

"I figured you could use a good surprise now that you're back," he replies.

Having Tooru's smile turned on him at that hour when they both look like messes is something he knows they'll both remember. It's something he knows they'll laugh at for the next few years to come. This is a moment that neither would want to pass up and Issei is glad that he decided to do something selfish for once. 

___________________________

Mornings spent with their legs entangled are few and far between, but something Issei will never tire of. Even now, with jetlag weighing him down and an unpacked suitcase left unattended in the entryway since the night before, Issei is happy.

Even though he’s in a different country, where he doesn’t know the language and can only rely on the one person he’s loved since boyhood, he’s happy. Being able to spend these brief moments with each other is enough to get him through the rest of the year when they’re apart. 

The body next to him stirs, clearly aware that he’s awake. And when Tooru turns over, buries his face in Issei’s chest, and groans that it’s too early for them to be awake, his chest rumbles with laughter. 

“Hey.” His voice is rough, bogged down from sleep and relearning Tooru’s body. “Did I wake you?” 

“Yes,” Tooru mumbles. “Which, for the record, is completely unfair since you were the one who kept us up all night. Apologize, please.” 

Like hell, he will. Issei will gladly take the blame for keeping them awake, for being greedy, for wanting to spend all night hearing Tooru whisper and beg and tell him how much he loves him. But he’ll never apologize for wanting that. 

Instead, he pulls Tooru closer and buries his face in his hair to remember what he smells like. Instead, he smiles as Tooru wiggles around in his grip and kicks at his shins. Instead, he laughs freely when Tooru starts to tickle his sides and under his ribs. Instead, he places kisses on the top of his head every time he feels lips brush his skin. 

Over the last five, seven, even ten years, Issei has learned that happiness comes in different forms. It can come in the way his heart beats as a plane lands or in the way a phone rings way too early in the morning or even know, when this love of his is being ridiculous just for the hell of it while he’s being difficult for the same reason. 

Happiness can be him packing all of his belongings into boxes and moving to a country even though he doesn’t know the language just because of one person. And he’s perfectly okay with that being an option. 

He has all the time to decide as long as Tooru is willing to wait for his answer. 

“You owe me breakfast now,” Tooru grumbles when he finally crawls on top of Issei, arms pinned to the pillows. “Especially since I know you won’t apologize.” 

“For you, anything.” 

He leans up and kisses Tooru with every word he’s never been able to say and with every emotion he’s ever felt. 

___________________________

“You really need to stop buying so many plants, Issei. It’s getting out of control.” 

He looks up at Oikawa from the pan in front of him and raises an eyebrow. He’s not sure where to start with what he just heard, but the fact of the matter is that _Oikawa_ is currently the one watering the obscene amount of plants that have taken over the better half of their living room. They’re covering every available surface from the bookshelf to the tv stand to the brand new shelves they installed the week before. 

He glances over at the package that arrived that morning with a new set of succulents addressed to _Oikawa Tooru_ and not himself. A smile slides across his face as he turns back to the stovetop; the last thing he needs is to be scolded for burning their breakfast. 

“Is it? Weren’t you the one who said I was good at taking care of them?” 

“Maybe so,” he replies. “But, they’re taking over the apartment these days. Every time I come back there’s a new one.” 

He thinks back to those times in Sendai, spent walking around with dirt under their nails and planters in their arms and smiles on their faces. He thinks back to the times they spent digging their fingers into the soil in the summer sun only to smear it across their faces. 

Laughter bubbles out of him at that, spilling between them and filling the room. It only takes a few seconds before the other's laughter joins in with his own, the cats peeking their heads into the room to see what’s happening. 

This is comfortable, this is how they were always meant to spend their lives together even if they only get it for a few moments each year, even if they spend it talking about their plants instead of anything else. 

“I think this package over here begs to differ with you. It’s not addressed to _me_ , Tooru.”

Issei doesn’t need to look up to know there’s a pout on Tooru's face; pink lips pushed out as if he’s a child that didn’t get his way. He also knows that if he looks up to witness said pout, he’ll crumble. And once, just once, he’d like to win this non-argument of theirs. He’ll be damned if he’s the one taking blame for both of their obsessions with plants. 

“Issei,” Oikawa says. “You can’t _possibly_ be blaming me for buying you a gift, right?” 

A pair of arms wrap around his waist and squeeze. He knows Tooru is being dramatic, pretending to be sour when he knows they’re falling into the space where they’re able to talk like this. A warmth starts to bloom in his chest. 

“Is that what is it? A gift for me?” 

Another squeeze. 

“For _us._ ”

___________________________

It’s edging closer to 3:00 am and Issei is still staring at the same nine tabs as he was four hours ago. He knows absolutely nothing about rings. Not how sizing works, not the difference between gold and silver, not how many settings are too many. 

He knows nothing, absolutely nothing and it’s coming to bite him in the ass. 

He’s still not sure _why_ he’s even looking at engagement rings. Sure, Makki said something about how the two of them should just get married already. And sure, Iwaizumi backed up what he said by mentioning how Oikawa wouldn’t shut up about one of his teammates proposing to their girlfriend. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that his boyfriend put their friends up to this. 

Instead of dwelling on that thought, he clicks back into the first tab and stares at the ring on the screen. It's a pretty thing, with big enough settings that people in space could see it sparkling. Issei looks at it for a few more seconds before shutting his laptop with a sigh. 

Picking a ring out wouldn’t be so hard if _he_ wasn’t so picky. This ring is his attempt to manifest all of his feelings, all of the things he wants to say, all of the nights he has spent dreaming about their lives together. To Issei, this ring has to be perfect or he doesn’t want it at all. 

He needs to get his shit together and go to a jeweler tomorrow in order to get this damn ring. 

  
  
  


The jeweler doesn’t help in the slightest. 

Issei thought he came prepared, thought he had all of the details he needed in order to find this ring and leave. But, as it turns out, he thought wrong. 

It also turns out that going to a jeweler is a lot more intense than looking at rings online. The employee helping him goes through the different types of metals he can pick from, which settings are best for different hands, how long it will take certain rings to shape. By the time they’re done explaining, Issei feels like he knows even less than he did before he walked in. 

“Please,” he mumbles. “Please help me get the perfect ring.” 

He knows he looks pathetic to the employee and whoever else is eavesdropping onto their conversation. A surprise comes in the form of a hand covering his own, a soft smile aimed at him when he finally looks up. 

“Tell me what they like,” the employee says. “I’m here to help as much as possible.” 

Issei lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and smiles back. 

___________________________

Argentina is a beautiful place, but there is no sight that Issei loves more than that of Tooru in their living room. 

Issei is barely awake when he catches Tooru like this. He looks beautiful, wrapped in a blanket with a mug of tea in his hands and a cat on his lap. To anyone else it might not seem like much, might seem like Issei’s giving too much credit to something so pedestrian. But to him, this view is something he wants to wake up to for the rest of his life. 

_This is it_ , he thinks, _this is the moment I’ve been waiting for_. 

As quickly and quietly as he can, Issei tiptoes back to their bedroom. He creeps into their closet, digs through his jackets with deft fingers until they land on the right one, and dips into the inner pocket. 

The box doesn’t weigh any more than it did the week before or the week before that or even the month before _that_. Even when he opens the box to reveal a pair of matching rings, he can see that they’re the same ones he purchased over a month ago. And yet, it feels as if the weight of their shared history is resting in the palm of his hand. 

It feels like the weight of everything he has never said and everything he wants to say for the rest of his life. 

He knows that when he asks, Tooru will say yes - they’ve talked about spending their lives together and how it would work out and where they would live - but that doesn’t stop his own doubts from creeping in. What if he _did_ say no? What if he thinks they’re more serious than they are? What if he’s just swept up in the feeling of his love being back in their home again?

No, Issei has never dealt with what if’s before, has never let them ruin something he wants so terribly that he’d do anything to have. He decides he’s not going to let them ruin this for him either and tucks the box into his pocket. 

On the surface, nothing has changed when he walks back into their living room. Tooru is still on the couch, playing with the cat as if both of their worlds aren’t about to change. But to Issei, the room feels charged, heated in a way that only he notices. The room feels as if it’s filled with a tension that wasn’t there moments ago. _I can do this_ , he thinks, _I can seriously do this_. 

“Issei, why are you standing over there like a ghost? It’s scaring Momo.” 

He blinks once, twice, three times before his eyes settle on Tooru grinning at him. Happiness is etched into each line on his face like it was carved into marble. The sight pushes him to move closer. A hand wraps around the box while the other reaches out for the other's hand, a small gesture that’s more to steady his own nerves than anything else. 

“Tooru,” he starts, hands already starting to sweat. He can feel Tooru’s eyes on him but refuses to meet them just yet. “There’s something I need to ask you.” 

“Is it about that box you’ve been hiding for the last week?” 

Issei snaps his head towards Tooru, shock replacing any other emotion on his face, and is greeted with a soft smile that he’s only seen a handful of times. It calms the sound of his sound from beating too loud, lets him catch his breath for a moment, makes him feel secure.

“I found it while looking for one of my jackets,” Tooru admits, blush spreading across his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to peek but I couldn’t help myself.”

“I—”

“I already know what you’re going to ask,” he cuts Issei off, his hand lacing their fingers together. “You already know what my answer is, so you better ask me properly or I’ll make you ask over and over until it’s good enough.” 

Their laughter fills the room, blanketing them in a comfort that they’ve always had. Issei finally pulls a shaky hand out of his pocket, box clutched in his palm. 

“What do you think? Want to get married?” 

“I guess that’s good enough. Of course, Issei.”

Tooru doesn’t give me more than a moment before prying the box out of his hand. It’s ridiculous and obnoxious and exactly how Issei would expect a proposal to go for the two of them. He’s already thinking about how Iwaizumi will talk about how stupid they are in his speech, a smile growing across his face. 

They have all the time in the world to decide what to do with their lives and he couldn’t be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> the love is stored in matsukawa's eyebrows and that is canon. i hope you all enjoyed this fic!!


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